


Secrets of Caffeine

by rainistender



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Boss/Employee Relationship, F/M, One Shot, Psychic Abilities, Psychic Bond
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-07
Updated: 2017-07-07
Packaged: 2018-11-28 20:28:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11425584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainistender/pseuds/rainistender
Summary: The best employee at F.O. Caf and a student at the local college, Rey quickly realizes that repeat guests are not always what they seem. Or, what happens when someone who constantly orders 'coffee as black as my soul' turns out to be someone remarkably different from her first impression of him.





	Secrets of Caffeine

**Author's Note:**

> I'm back with a one-shot folks! I sincerely apologize to those who wanted an update from my other fic. I may update one day, but I hope that you enjoy this one in the meantime. I also have a longer fic that is somewhat canon compliant planned for the future. I can be found on Tumblr under the username 'rainistender'. As always, I do not own Star Wars or its characters. I do own the plot of this fic.

It’s not exactly the most impressive of jobs, but she has no intention of making a legitimate career out of it and it does provide indispensable assistance in funding her scholastic journey. Besides, the discounts certainly don’t hurt on tedious nights in which she’s meticulously preparing for exams. Coffee and tea are rejuvenative elixirs for a conscientious student such as herself, after all. They mercifully replenish the energy that arduous assignments greedily steal from her. She’d be lying if she said knowing that she was aiding others in contending with lethargy didn’t please her to some degree. Though these interactions are fleeting and some become forgotten pieces of time come the end of a lengthy shift, she knows that she’s accomplishing good. Not to mention, refining her own social skills. While she’s undeniably fortunate to have befriended two of her classmates - one being a charismatic male with an inexhaustible penchant for taking to the skies in his beloved aircraft and the other being an affable male with a fervent interest in bettering the world around him, she’s a bit of a wallflower beyond that. It’s not that she’s as bashful as a lamb, she’s simply accustomed to keeping to herself and does not feel obliged to acquaint herself with all who surround her. An unavoidable product of independence, if you will. So, these otherwise inconsequential conversations that she partakes in with patrons both juvenescent and senescent are exceptionally beneficial. 

However, what is one to do when one patron takes an overt interest in them - an interest that outweighs that which they invest in caffeinated beverages? Quaint as it certainly is, the establishment is not understaffed. Quite the opposite is true of this pristine coffee shop considering its size. Where one might expect a quintet of employees to be manning the floor, there are ten of them on its payroll and she is but one of them. Each and every time she’s scheduled to be operating the floor alongside three peers, there’s a particular individual who ensures to visit. With ominous circles underneath fatigued eyes - eyes that bear an inimitable intensity - and tufts of obsidian hair inelegantly peeking out from underneath a burgundy fedora, he’s of a most peculiar nature. A scowl stubbornly tugs at masculine lips. It would not be absurd for one to believe that it’s been glued to his mostly unblemished face. It’s as if he utterly abhors the thought of being out in public. Miraculously, it vanishes whenever his fathomless eyes meet hers. A smile does not replace it, but unbridled curiosity unfailingly devours whole those umber eyes of his. Somehow, she always finds herself front and center on register whenever this bewildering individual graces the shop with his presence. Having found this….bizarre to say the least, she’s inquired about the matter whilst conversing with fellow employees. Though her queries were answered, her befuddlement was only augmented by the informative responses that she received. Apparently, he only visits when she’s working and he specifically asks for her as if requesting his favored beverage - coffee as dark as his soul. Whatever that means. Such behavior is just as strange as the name he unfalteringly provides each time she takes his order. Kylo. What kind of a name is that? Surely it’s an unorthodox alias, which makes that much more perplexing his fascination with her. 

Clarity comes crashing down unexpectedly one morning in November when she’s summoned early by F.O.’s manager of finance. He’s a supercilious accountant who strives for absolute perfection and frequently belittles those who deems inferior, but he sees to it that the coffee shop is not deprived of its many necessities. He’s exceedingly competent and is most definitely not unaware of his lucrative talents. Though uncertain of the purpose behind this impromptu meeting - one that she’d much rather avoid despite having worked half a semester thus far, she does not attempt to escape it. It is with palpable apprehension brewing within her that she approaches the mahogany office door with its lustrous plaque that unnecessarily displays the words ‘Armitage Hux’s Office’. Thrice does she knock. Only after that third knock is she greeted with the daunting sight of flaming hair and judgemental eyes. “Enter and keep quiet until spoken to.” Impertinently does she roll her eyes at this dramatic response to her inevitable arrival. Nevertheless, she does as instructed and enters the uncluttered room. Only for her eyes to widen a fraction upon realizing that there is to be a third participant in this sudden discussion. 

Noticeably absent of their customary traces of lethargy, vigilant eyes are illuminated by something unrecognizable. Sable hair is liberated from the costly hat that typically shields it. Today, he’s swathed in pitch black garments. His outfit consists of immaculate slacks, a solid blouse, leather shoes, a loose tie, and a tidy belt. Has he come from a funeral? Or does he simply adore the dismal color that much? Her eyes are automatically narrowed in suspicion and a discernible hint of ire coats her brazen tongue. “You. Did you report me? Are you trying to get me fired?” It’s absurd. To her knowledge, she’s wronged him in no way. At this, an unabashed smirk forms upon his face, but he is not the one to acknowledge her accusatory questions. “I believe I commanded you to keep quiet. Rey, this is Kylo Ren. While I consider myself to be in charge of you, I must admit that _he_ is ultimately your true boss and the one who gave you your job. In a way, I suppose you could say he’s my boss as well. Along with Miss Phasma - the scheduler, we decided to create this establishment. The idea was his, but it would be nothing without us.” Her standoffish glare fades as hazel eyes widen to mimic saucers. “You’re the owner.” She’s quick to identify the look in his eyes as one of pure amusement. “I am.” She’d been informed of the fact that none of the employees knew anything about the owner. There were rumors designed to explain his mysterious absence - to satiate ravenous curiosity, but she could not have foreseen this. “Why not tell me?” 

“Had I purely wished for you to see me as such, I would have told you the moment I first approached you.” She’s rendered speechless by this unanticipated answer and he takes this as motivation to continue. “Winter break is coming. I want to know if you intend to return to this job once classes resume. I also want to invite you to join me for a few outings before then.” She tilts her head ever so slightly so as to convey her utter obliviousness and complete lack of comprehension. “I’m not sure I understand. What exactly do you want from me? What are you expecting?” He tilts his head, but not out of confusion. Somehow, she understands it to be an undying habit of his. “I’d like to get to know you for you. I have your resume, but a piece of paper is just that.” It is a point against which she cannot effectively argue. However, while she understands that he wishes to be perceived as more than just the elusive owner of a local gem, she still finds herself unable to identify his desires in their entirety. “You don’t seem like someone who socializes much. Do you not have any friends? Is that what this is about?” In an unimaginably rare moment, a most inelegant snort of pure derision is elicited from Hux. It is met with an icy glare - one meant to silence its unfortunate recipient - from their shared employer. Upon ensnaring his attention once more, his unsympathetic glare vanishes. “Do you always ask so many questions?” She’s automatically vexed by this. “That happens when your employer is strange." He lifts a midnight brow. "I prefer the term unique." An audacious smirk approaches camellia lips as she provides an equally brazen response. "In a strange way." Perhaps it's her perpetual obstinacy, but something about her comment inadvertently returns the barefaced smirk to his lips. "Perhaps. Regardless, I have yet to receive an answer from you. About the job and my invitation." After a fleeting moment of prudent consideration, her resolve manifests itself in the form of a compendious answer. "I plan on keeping the job. As for your invitation, I guess. I don't see the harm." 

Though there was no way that the diligent student could have known then, those words would be the initiation of an exceptionally surreal and truly unforgettable journey. Their frequent meetings mostly entailed him inquiring about aspects of her life that one could not learn of simply by perusing the unpretentious resume she'd submitted when seeking employment. Sometimes, he would pose questions pertaining to obvious truths that were mentioned in it. From her foster parent - a sagacious and kindhearted woman named Maz - to the beneficial abilities that two decades of transformative experiences bestowed unto her. In turn, she'd inquire about his enigmatic life. Though he was not overly generous in furnishing her with captivating details,  it would be a blatant lie to say that he revealed nothing at all. The abstruse product of an irresponsible father and an industrious mother involved with the government in some fashion. An elegant sort, he has found himself accustomed to savoring numerous privileges. Formal banquets, costly events, and more are the sumptuous pleasures that fortune has gifted him with. Yet, there's a poignant loneliness within that entices her like a curious moth to a ravenous flame. Clearly, he is without congenial companions in whom he can unreservedly confide. Whether they're dining at a homely diner or finding relaxation in an evening stroll, she knows that he derives immeasurable enjoyment from their cordial outings. On all of their excursions, he seems as if he's withholding something - as if he's refraining from articulating some tenacious thought despite being tempted to do so. One day, perhaps inevitably, he liberates himself from those cumbersome shackles of restraint.

Her lightsome fingers are affixed to an expendable cup in which freshly brewed coffee can be found. His larger ones can be found in a similar position. Nursing a disposable cup of a larger size. On the unsullied table between them is a porcelain plate featuring a gallimaufry of palatable desserts. Without fellow patrons surrounding them, they're seated on a spacious patio on the second floor of a luxurious establishment. It's just them and it becomes blindingly apparent to her that she's been struggling to no avail with determining whether these outings should or should not be considered dates. Although his gaze is always abnormally intense, it seems to be that much more incisive today. Suddenly, he speaks and the coherent words that emerge stun her. “I saw you in a vision. I know you have them too. They come to you when you’re asleep.” Relaxed and untroubled but a moment ago, her posture swiftly becomes rigid. It feels as if her heart has anxiously skipped a beat or two. How could he have possibly known? How is it possible for him to be aware of the secret that she keeps closest to her heart - shrouded in darkness where none can unearth it? "I don’t know what you’re talking about.” It's a minute movement - one that can only be discerned by vigilant eyes, but the rightmost corner of his lip inconspicuously twitches upward. “You hesitated.” 

She'd been too astonished to preclude such a traitorous tell from attracting his attention. However, she is not prepared to validate his irrefutable claims aloud. “Let’s say you were right. How would you know?” Even though it seems to be uncoincidental - a deliberate act, perhaps he's simply bluffing. That inconsiderable possibility is promptly eliminated, however. “Mine have shown me guiding you. If you seek more proof, I was informed of several occurrences involving you having drinks prepared before initiating transactions.” She'd hoped to utilize these inexplicable capabilities to boost her job performance - to make life less...arduous. She had not expected anyone to take notice of it. Certainly not someone with extensive knowledge of otherworldly affairs. Hazel eyes are suspiciously narrowed as she becomes cautious in his presence - more than she already ensures to be. “What of it? Are you threatening to expose my secret?” An indecipherable smile - one that is not unkind - playfully toys with his lips as he plucks a petite tart from the edible arrangement. “Not at all. What I want is to teach you.” Chestnut arches are furrowed while she observes him. “Teach me?” 

A fluid wave of his hand invites her to partake in the gratifying consumption of saccharine delectables. Unhurriedly, she uses her free hand to seize a chocolate chip cookie. Table manners have never been among her prized aptitudes and she finds it that much more challenging to concentrate on developing such skills when she's discovered that such a delicate secret has found its way to a foreign mind. “You don’t know how to use your abilities. How to make the most of them. Right now, your power controls _you_. I’m giving you the opportunity to change that. To control _it_.” The notion does not lack appeal, which is why it is wholeheartedly contemplated whilst she takes an unceremonious bite of the delicious treat in hand. “At what cost?” Her vociferous skepticism becomes a nagging voice in her head. Impossible to _stifle_ ; impossible to _dismiss_. “Nothing. This is simply meant to be.” At that, she offers a most unbecoming and brusque snort. “Most people want something in exchange for doing something for someone else.” None can deny that egocentricity and greed taint this materialistic world. Unrefined, her candor solicits an audible chuckle from him. “True, but you and I are not most people.” Another truth that cannot be debated. Their gazes never parting from each other, they both take bites of their respective desserts. 

“You already know that I’m about to leave for break.” It hardly seems the appropriate time to commence something so significant. Besides, what little knowledge he might be able to bestow unto her prior to their anticipated separation would leave her craving more. “What if I invited you to come with me instead?” An expression evincing the unalloyed confusion he's begotten within her attaches itself to her face. “Go with you? Where?” With unflattering expedition, she devours the lingering remnants of her cookie. Even now, when visibly perplexed, she remembers not to be wasteful. “My family has owned a private estate for generations. Any expenses that arise in the process of getting you there won’t be yours to deal with.” Though the munificent offer enthralls her almost as much as _he_ does, there's an appreciable peril in acceptance. Normally, precariousness itself would not daunt her, but the substantial weight of that which could be at stake deters. “I need my job. If anything bad happens while we’re there, I could lose it.” After taking the final bite of his blackberry tart with impeccable grace, he offers a solitary nod of understanding. Not of surrender. “What if I were to promise you that your job would be safe regardless of what transpired?” There's unadulterated sincerity laced 'tween those words. What would Maz have to say to this? Or Finn? Or Poe? She'd surely be cautioned against vacationing with her employer. Somehow, all of that is willfully brushed away because she's much too curious - much too _**enticed**_ \- and she does trust him to an extent. She's perfectly capable of defending herself. “I would accept." 

The inevitable passing of time sees them both at a palatial domain - a picturesque mansion - engirdled by towering evergreens that miraculously manage to retain some of their viridescence despite their pointed tips being coated in snow white. A circular lake that would have glistened 'neath warm or cool rays of natural light had it not been frozen by wintertide is located nearby. When trying not to focus on the magnetic pull of his fathomless eyes or how stunning they are when illuminated by the dancing tongues of fire in the fireplace that he insists on sitting by come nightfall, she's endeavoring to decide just how she feels about this corporeal mystery. Save for a few exceptions, she's accustomed to meeting people and knowing not whether their paths will entwine once more. With him, there's imperturbable certainty. Their sinuous paths are inextricably bound. Though she knows now that their meeting was preordained, she's starting to believe that they're destined to remain in each other's lives. This inimitable and ineffable energy between them makes her believe that a bond of friendship is not what unites them. It's so much more profound than that. It makes labels trivial and obsolete. However, intimacy of this sort - anything but platonic - _frightens_ her. Combined with her staunch proclivity for industriousness, this apprehension has always prevented her from establishing a relationship of that nature. So, consciously and instinctively, she shies away from the accidental touches that do occur. It happened when they were transferring luggage from his sleek vehicle to the estate. The casual - seemingly fortuitous - brushing of extremities sent a palpable wave of stimulating electricity rushing over both of them. With each lesson that she learns, she becomes more and more aware of that energy. Though he barely shows it, her witting avoidance of it seems to frustrate him. Nothing is said of this bizarre situation, however. Until it is.

They're in the middle of their stay when it suddenly occurs. She's comfortably wrapped up in several velvety blankets and lounging of the carpeted section of the floor near the gaping mouth of the fireplace. An impressive sight that one might read of in a fairy tale. Really, the same can truthfully be said of the entire property. His voice - eternally recognizable - is discerned first. "Do you mind if I join you?" Belatedly, she realizes that she's beaten him to this simple comfort. Still, why should he feel obliged to seek permission? "No. Of course not. Why would I?" With an unreadable sigh departing from his eloquent lips, he seats himself directly beside her. The black fabric of his silken shirt nearly brushes against the outer layer of her form fitting fortress of blankets. "You tell me. Have you not been avoiding me?" Ah, so he has indeed been offended. Still, she opts to feign ignorance for now. "Didn't we have another lesson earlier today? I asked questions and spoke to you like I'm doing now, didn't I?" She feels his unswerving gaze - so full of categorical irritation - on her. "You know what I mean. You're just wasting time by trying to evade." 

Yes, she knows. A discernible frown precipitously forms upon her warm lips. "What do you want me to say?" Unlike him, this is not a conversation that she presently seeks. If that means forcing him to feel as if he's pulling teeth, so be it. "You feel it just as I do. The constant pull." At that, she cannot help but forsake the tranquil sight of igneous tongues in order to observe that of the bottomless vortexes that are his eyes. "What does it mean?" Without a doubt, she already knows. An applicable term is never far from mind. "Call it what you wish. Destiny. Fate. Regardless of its name, it means for us to be together." _Soulmates._ "You're my employer. There must be some rule against this." She has not thought to check as the need has not arisen until now. Even still, it's a rather weak protest and she knows it. "Rules can't change what's between us. As it is, Hux is more of a boss to you than I am. You didn't know who I was until I told you. That speaks of the distance that I keep from the shop." She's still glaringly skeptical, but his left arm reassuringly encircles her smaller form and effectively minimizes the space separating their contrasting forms. Expectedly, there's a pleasurable jolt of electricity at the moment of physical contact. "Should you accept this path, we can work out the details upon our return. It's just us right now." With that, he places a chaste kiss upon her lips as if testing unsteady waters - considerately providing her the opportunity to reject him. Nerves become restive as she tentatively returns the amorous gesture. Still, the persistent fear of intimacy is no longer capable of dissuading her from acknowledging her fervent desires. From wanting to be with someone who can understand her in ways that no one else can.

With this act, an unambiguous understanding is formed.  Though the future is an impenetrable cloud of uncertainty, they'll explore it together.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Friendly comments and kudos are deeply appreciated.


End file.
